


Now That's The Tea

by Forlorn_Melody



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Oral Sex, Romantic dates, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 03:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18024032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forlorn_Melody/pseuds/Forlorn_Melody
Summary: Shepard doesn't seem to be a big fan of tea, or maybe she's just a fan of giving Traynor a hard time. But this is a game they're both willing to play if it means relaxing in the middle of a war.





	Now That's The Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [comefeedtherainn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comefeedtherainn/gifts).



“Tea? Really? I prefer my bean juice, thank you very much.” Shepard pulls at her pressed collar, seemingly itching to take it off.

“Give it a chance.” Sam’s presses her lips together, trying to hide her smile. She’s decent at chess, _indecent_ at Kepesh-Yakshi, but she’s never had much of a poker face. “Now sit up straight and keep your elbows off the table.”

Shepard groans as she complies. “This is the last time I let you plan our dates.”

Sam leans forward, biting her lip. “You said you wanted to get to know me better. High Tea is a valued tradition of my people.”

Her girlfriend deadpans, “You’re from Horizon.” She clicks her tongue. “A country-bumpkin colonist, just like me.”

“But I studied at Oxford. And you better believe I had tea with my professors every time I had the chance.”

“To boost your grades?” Shepard quirked an eyebrow.

“No! To learn.” Sam sighs longingly. “To learn as much as I could.”

“They ever teach you that coffee is better? Or Beer?”

Sam rolls her eyes as the waiters bring in the carousel filled with treats. “No. And besides, it’s not just about the tea.” She can fix a mean cocktail, but there’s just something about holding a warm cup between her hands, regardless of the time of day or the weather.

“Hot Damn,” Shepard swears under her breath, staring at the chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate dipped cherries, sandwiches cut into triangles, saucers filled with cream, other saucers filled with honey, chocolate and pomegranate tarts, and apples cut into the shape of roses. Narrowing her eyes, Shepard eyed the selection. “Half of these are aphrodisiacs.” She looked up at Sam, a smirk pulling at her lips. “If you wanted me in your bed, you could have just asked.”

Keeping her posture perfect, Sam nudges Shepard’s calf beneath the table, allowing her nylon covered toes to slip beneath the hem of Shepard’s trousers. “Ah, but playing the game is half the fun.”

Shepard swallows, her voice cracking as it dips low. “You’re--”

“--Exquisite? Beautiful? Stunning?” Sam fills in for her.

“--Impossible.” Shepard bumps the table as she catches the elbow of the retreating waiter. “Could I get a glass of water, please?”

“Of course.” The turian’s mandibles flick in distaste.

He returns with a rolling cart. “One pot of chai, one pot of pomegranate tea and,” The turian sighs. “And one pitcher of water.”

Shepard pores herself some chai, drinking it black. “Should I put my pinkies up?” She manages to say.

Sam snorts. “That’s only for royalty.” She pours herself some pomegranate tea, but instead of sipping it right away, she bites into a strawberry. “Mm.” Shepard’s gaze locks on hers. “These are _so_ good.”

“Oh?” Shepard pops a cherry into her mouth, chewing and swallowing. And then she sticks the stem inside. Out comes a bow.

“Mm-hm.” Samantha manages to say, though her voice is strained, far too easily imagining what else Shepard can do with her tongue. She knows from experience. How Shepard made her knees quake in their hot tub this morning.  “That’s---not fair.”

Shepard’s eyes twinkle. “Nothing’s fair in love and war, Traynor.” She then proceeds to lick the chocolate off her next strawberry.

“Oh dear.” Why does her girlfriend have to look so suave in her blazer and trousers? 

* * *

 

 After the mission on Tuchanka--the one where Shepard cures the Genophage--because merely saving the Krogan from a Reaper invasion just isn’t enough for the Alliance hero--Sam finally confronts her commander. She does so “with respect” as she clears her throat. Shepard replies with an edge to her voice--and it only proves Sam right. Her favorite commanding officer isn’t sleeping.

Sam orders a special blend of tea--one that’s way out of her budget with import prices--but who’s counting? She can pay off her debt when the war ends--if any of them make it out alive. A blend of chamomile, lavender, and rose petals--a tea that will help Shepard sleep, hopefully without grogginess the next morning or additional nightmares.

“Specialist Traynor.” Shepard glowers up at her from a streaming mug two sleep and wake cycles later.

Sam stops short of the mess hall table, a bead of sweat slipping down her back. “Commander Shepard.”

“Cortez tells me you’re responsible for this.” Shepard gestures at the mug, holding a conspicuously pink beverage with a floral aroma.

“Y-yes, Commander.”

“Sit down, Traynor, and quit using my title if you’re going to be buying me gifts."

Traynor sits down, her face warming early as hot as the tea. “How is it?”

“Flowery.” Shepard takes a sip. “And sweet.” Her gaze lingers on Sam just a little longer than necessary. “But why go to all the trouble? Especially with your pay.”

Honestly, Sam could use a calming cup right now. “I was...worried about you, Com--Shepard,” she says quickly.

“Worried? About me?” A soft smile blooms across the Commander’s face.

“Everyone needs someone to look out for them. Even you.”

“Mm.” Shepard sips her tea, closing her eyes. Maybe Sam’s imagining things, but she think she sees some of the tension release from Shepard’s shoulders. “You drink this stuff a lot?”

“All the time. This is one of my favorite blends. Had it during high tea with some cucumber sandwiches and it was glorious.” Sam thinks back, the cold steel of the Normandy slipping away as a warm Oxford sun spills across her arms. “You should've seen it, Shepard. The way the sun shone through the leaves--the buzz of bumblebees collecting nectar from the roses--the smell of roses complementing the taste of the liquid in your cup.” She can’t help but sigh longingly at the memory. Who knows if that garden will survive the war?

“I imagine so.” Shepard’s watching her from the rim of the mug, much like her opponents do during a match. Something about her gaze, though.

“The company could have been better.”

“Ah. Not really all that interested in him?” Shepard sets the mug down.

“Her, actually.” Sam watches her carefully, completely unsure of why it matters so much what her commanding officer thinks of her dating history.

Shepard brightens at that, and something stirs behind Sam’s belly button. Oh no. This is not good. Not good at all. “I see.” She studies Sam again, tracing the rim of the mug with her finger. “Maybe when this war is over, you can show me how it’s done.”

* * *

 

 That was before Sam invited Shepard into the shower. Maybe they did things a little out of order, but who has patience for something traditional in the middle of a war? Sam’s still shocked she even found this cafe, especially after the Coup. “Try this one,” Sam says as she pours some pomegranate into Shepard’s empty cup.

“Mm. Not bad. Kind of a tart,” Shepard says as she smirks at Sam, clearly not talking about the tea.

Sam kicks her calf. “Pot meet kettle.” She pops a cherry into her mouth, after licking off all the chocolate, pleased with the way Shepard’s mouth drops open.

Shepard clears her throat. “How much longer is this gonna last?”

“Don’t tell me you’re no longer hungry.” Sam pouts, gesturing at the uneaten food.

“Oh, I’m hungry all right.” Shepard shifts in her seat, pulling at her collar while a nice flush creeps up her skin.

“You have to eat your food before you get dessert,” Sam says with a twinkle in her eye.

“This _is_ dessert.”

“Is it?” Sam runs her foot nearly the length of Shepard’s leg, and she choked on her sip.

“Sam.” She pleads after gulping down a big glass of water. “You’re killing me.”

“Nothing’s fair, Shepard.”

Soon enough, she does whisk Shepard away to a sky car, and to Shepard’s apartment (well, technically Anderson’s apartment, but he’s not going to show up there any time soon.) Good thing too, because Sam’s locking the door behind them.

“I’m still not sure why you had me take allergy medicine in the sky car--oh.” Sam’s hit with the aroma of flowers--the minty smell of roses, the sweetness of peonies, the strong, cool scent of lavender, the heady fragrance of verbena.

Shepard grips Sam’s shoulders, spinning her around. Her warm breath stirs the air around Sam’s ear as she murmurs. “Remember that story you told me about afternoon tea in an English garden? It was kind of hot.” She squeezes Sam’s hips. “I’d hate for you to have a reaction.”

Sam sees more flowers than she can reasonably smell-- petunias, violets, impatiens, chrysanthemums and primrose. It’s as if she's standing in a dream. “Shepard--” she protests bashfully. “It must have cost you a fortune to import all these flowers.” Any surface large and stable enough for a vase or a pot has one.

Kissing her ear and down her neck, Shepard continues her previous thought. “Chakwas says those pills would be perfect for you. Are they working?”

Daring to take in a deep breath, Sam shivers. “I think so.”

Shepard grins against her skin. “Good. Cause I want to make love to you when you’re surrounded by your favorites.” Taking her hand, Shepard leads her to the middle of the living room pulling a quilt off the couch so she can spread it across the floor in front of the fire. “Not quite English sunshine, but it’ll have to do.”

Sam pulls her into a kiss. “Nonsense Shepard, this is lovely.”

“Mm.” Shepard kisses back, her lips warmer than the fire. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I _love_ it.” Sam deepens her next kiss, squealing as Shepard sweeps her off her feet and lowers her to the quilt.

Shepard hums her satisfaction, running her hands over Sam’s dress. “You look good in yellow.”

Sam grins, fiddling with the buttons on Shepard’s shirt. “You look good in a suit.” She unbuttons it enough to slip her hand inside, caressing the cotton of Shepard’s bra. Pulling her shirt out of the way just a bit more, she finds an N7 logo. “Really, Shepard.”

Leaning over her, and sliding a hand up Sam’s dress, Shepard smirks. “How else would you know it was me and not a clone?”

“Your clone wouldn’t be trying to undress me.”

“Who says I am?” Sam flushes as Shepard grins wider.

“Are we ever actually going to take off her clothes before we go down on each other?”

“Mm. Maybe. But I need you, right now.” Shepard kisses her in earnest, wetting Sam’s lips with her tongue.”

“Wait, hold on.” Sam presses against her lover’s chest with her hand.

“Now what?” Shepard pouts, sitting back on her heels.

“I have something for you too. Just a moment.” Sam dashes up the stairs, rummaging around until she finds what she’s looking for. Her heart races as she searches, and her breath falls short--any moment away from Shepard feels like an eternity. It'll be worth it, Sam tells herself. She returns, handing Shepard a black box wrapped with a red ribbon. Hopefully her girlfriend would like it. Would she find it too forward? Too corny? Ugh. Sam should have included a gift receipt.

Tearing off the ribbon, Shepard’s eyebrows shoot up when she finds the gift inside. “Hot damn.” She pulls out a double-ended dildo and a harness.

“I thought we should celebrate.”

Shepard’s eyes widen. “Shit, did I forget an anniversary?”

“Not at all.” Sam sits back down with her, cupping her face as she kisses her again. “I almost lost you the other day.”

Shepard runs a hand down the back of Sam’s neck. “I almost lost you, too.”

“Me getting fired is not the same as you getting killed, Shepard.”

“I really try _not_ to die, you know.” Shepard sighs. “Sometimes I fuck up.” She stares at the primrose on the coffee table as if it’s the void of space.

“This wasn’t your fault.” Sam runs her thumb across Shepard’s cheek, feeling awful for taking her out of the moment. Surely they can get it back somehow. “You mean the world to me, you know that right?”

Shepard looks at her and smiles. “Always.” Their lips meet again, reverently as they work together to rid Shepard of her trousers and her and her damp boy shorts.

Sam grins against her lips, tracing her wetness with eager fingers. “You’ve been worked up since tea, haven’t you?”

Growling softly, Shepard grips her a little tighter as she nips Sam’s bottom lip. “You knew exactly what you were doing to me the entire time.”

“You sound annoyed. Do you want me to stop?” Sam puts on a pout, starting to pull her fingers away.

“No, please. I need you,” Shepard pleads, gripping Sam’s wrist. It does something to her to see Shepard so desperate.

“Need?” Sam presses harder and faster, slipping a couple fingers inside her.

“Nng. Need.” Shepard arches into her hand, her jacket falling open just a bit wider.

Sam whispers against her ear, pumping faster. “I do love feeling needed.”

“Sam!” Shepard cries out as she comes. Sam’s about to work her through it, but her girlfriend tackles her, pressing her into the quilt. “Hey Sam,” she says hungrily, leaning over her.

“Hey Shepard.” Sam grins, shivering at the look in Shepard’s eyes. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Mostly. But I’m still starving.” Shepard leans closer. “Whatever will I eat?”

“Should have stayed for dessert.”

“I think I found some.” Shepard’s hand darts up Sam’s dress again, caressing her thighs freely. Sam shivers as her fingertips brush the lace of her panties.

Sam’s mouth feels dry. “Did you?”

Shepard answers by diving underneath the skirt of her dress, pulling the panties out of the way so she can lick her folds more freely. “Mm. You taste so good.” Sam clutches her head, feeling the rasp of Shepard’s buzz cut as a moan slips from her own mouth. Grinning, her girlfriend drags her tongue up and down her clit to her cunt and back. Just as Sam’s about to swear loud enough for the neighbors to hear, Shepard adds her fingers, sliding in and out of her easily. Nothing remotely resembling a word will come out of her mouth now. “You ready for me, baby?”

Sam answers with a moan, rocking into her touch as she shakes apart. Shepard grins at her smugly as she settles down next to her, lying on her side. She squeezes her hand, weaving their fingers together. “Mm. Best dessert I’ve had in a while.”

Sam swats her. “You’re the worst, she scolds her breathlessly.

“You didn’t seem to think so when I was eating you out.” Shepard kisses her again, and Sam feels a stirring inside when she tastes her own juices on her lips. “Ready to test out our new toy?” She asks when Sam’s hands start to wander.

“Actually, I was thinking I would test it out on you.” Sam stays Shepard’s hand when she reaches for the harness.

“Oh.” Shepard reddens as she hands it to her. “Alright.” She fumbles to her feet, jogging upstairs, and grabbing a bottle of lube. Sam laughs, watching her shirt and jacket bob up and down her bare ass.

Bottle in hand, Shepard returns with a grin on her face. Sam guides her back to the floor, laying Shepard on her back before she steps into the harness, one foot at a time. She stands in front of her lover, fingering herself while maintaining eye contact. Shepard watches her hungrily as she lubes up both ends of the toy, parting her lips slightly as she hands it off. Swallowing, Sam slides one end into the ring of the harness, and into herself slowly, relishing the feel of the ridges inside her most sensitive places.

“How does it feel?” Shepard parts her legs, shifting her weight restlessly. She snickers as she watches the free end tent the skirt of her dress. It must be a comical sight, but Sam’s too busy enjoying herself to care.

“ _Amazing,_ ” Sam breathes, half moaning, “but it’ll feel even better when you’re sharing it with me.” She lowers herself to the floor, crawling over Shepard, kissing her wetly before grabbing the free end of the dildo. “Ready, love?”

“Please, baby.” Shepard runs her hand through Sam’s hair, returning her kiss.

Sam uses her fingers, edging the other end into Shepard, shivering at the way it makes her eyes close. It takes them a few minutes of awkward grinding to find a movement and rhythm, laughing more than they moan. Even their positioning is off at first, with Shepard’s foot falling asleep before she moves it. And then the pressure builds.

“Holy shit,” Shepard grips Sam’s hips, her knuckles going white, “ _Sam_.”

She leans in, drinking in Shepard’s moan with a hungry kiss. The dildo moves between them both, Shepard’s thrusts pushing into Sam and vice versa. “It feels so good, darling.” Sam finds herself gripping Shepard’s shoulder, clinging to her as they move faster and faster and harder until…

Sam bites Shepard’s neck, unable to contain herself as her world flares hotter than the Normandy’s engines. “Oh god.”

“Y-yeah,” Shepard replies, her toes curling against Sam’s feet. The helpless cries of Shepard coming undone sounds like music to Sam’s ears.

“That’s it, darling.” Sam kisses her throat, grabbing the middle of the dildo for leverage, pumping it back and forth between them until they are a mess of limbs on the living room floor.

“You were right,” Shepard says later, after they’ve set the toy aside so they can snuggle closer.

“Am I ever wrong?”

Shepard laughs at her, pinching her butt. “Never.” Her eyes twinkle. “Except when you're talking about tea.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to think allergy medicine will improve in the next century or so. Less drowsiness and more effectiveness, you know? Lemme know what you think. About allergies, the fic, whatever.


End file.
